This Have I Done: A Christmas Tale
by Jennifer Lynn Weston
Summary: Jack can not give Elizabeth Turner what she most wants for Christmas, so he provides the second best thing. General Audience, as are all the 'Seashell' fics.


'Pirates of the Caribbean' belongs to Disney.

---

_"Tomorrow shall be my dancing day, I would my true love did so chance, _

_To see the legend of my play, to call my true love to my dance..."_

Captain Elizabeth Turner sighed, finding no comfort in singing the Yuletide song- a childhood favorite of hers. It reminded her too much of someone who could not be there to share the holiday with her.

The Pirate King's gaze turned from the sea, wandered down the length of the red-and-green _Empress_, where the crew were going about their usual tasks. Having been raised in a culture which valued stoicism, these men were an undemonstrative lot. But Liz had sailed with them long enough to read them. All were aware of their captain's depressed mood, and sympathized, but could think of no way to ease it. Nor could she.

Liz's memories kept returning to her first Christmas in Port Royal, and the modest party Governor Wetherby Swann had thrown for the servants and their families. Also invited were certain tradesmen he'd done business with, including Mr. Brown the blacksmith, and his new apprentice. Her father had allowed Elizabeth to attend, knowing there'd be children her own age there. And what fun they'd all had! Class distinctions were temporarily forgotten, as all the kids sang and played games together. William Turner had been particularly good at the find-the-hidden-sweets one. More importantly, he'd been very willing to share what he found- that more than made up for his off-key rendition of the carols. In retrospect, Elizabeth believed that was the occasion when she'd first realized she truly wanted to spend the rest of her life with Will.

What cruel irony that this, her first Christmas as Mrs. Turner, would also be the first one since her twelfth year that she'd spend without so much as seeing him.

A loud call sounded from the rigging - the Cantonese equivalent of "Sail Ho!" Elizabeth snatched up a spyglass and scanned the horizon the lookout was pointing to. Could it possibly be...?

Her shoulders sagged as she confirmed it was not the _Flying Dutchman_. This ship was too dark. Very dark, in fact- every canvas was black.

Liz sternly told herself she had no grounds to feel disappointed- on the contrary; she should be glad to have some holiday guests. Turning towards the main deck, she shouted down to her first mate. "Tai Huang, have the rum barrels brought up from stores."

There was a general murmur of wry anticipation among her men- they all remembered their last experience with these visitors. The _Black Pearl's_ crewmen were loud, rowdy, and undeniably entertaining company.

The approaching vessel was now close enough for Liz to make out the pale truce flag, signaling friendly intent. Liz frowned- something about the _Pearl_ looked different, though she couldn't quite deduce what. But she decided not to figure it out now; she had preparations to make.

Hurrying down from the quarterdeck, Liz entered the Captain's cabin. Nuan was there, one hand on the suspended cradle, softly crooning a Cantonese lullaby. There seemed to be no end to the woman's talents; lovely Nuan could soothe an infant as ably as she could guard her Captain's back in a fight.

"How is he?"

"Your son is waking even now, Mistress."

"Excellent." Liz tenderly bent over the cradle, addressing the stirring little bundle within. "Brace yourself, Willy. You're about to make the acquaintance of Captain Jack Sparrow."

The luminous brown eyes opened a crack, but, admirably unfazed, William Jr. simply yawned.  
--

Half an hour later, Willy was staring up in round-eyed amazement. Not at the new face above him, but at the fascinating array of colorful objects hanging alongside it.

Jack Sparrow stared back, with only slightly more familiarity. He'd had too little experience with babies to feel entirely comfortable with them, as was evident from the rather unpracticed way he cradled Willy. Still, the pirate was determined to make an effort with this particular whelpling. He'd made a promise, which, in this instance, he fully intended to keep.

A tiny hand strained towards his hair ornaments. Jack obligingly shifted one braid close enough for Willy to grasp. "Like that, do ye? As bad as Cotton's bloody parrot." The pirate carefully ran a finger over the miniature dark curls. "You have hair like yer Da- that's a fine thing. 'Twill be a rum deal if you also got 'is strong blacksmith arms. But do let's hope you got yer brains from yer Mum. And your looks from... actually, either side would serve you well there."

Liz, seated a few feet away, turned the latest seashell over in her hand. Per his usual custom, Jack had handed that to her upon coming aboard. A 'textile cone' from Borneo, he'd said. Beautifully marked with overlapping black scales, as sharply defined as if drawn with a quill. She didn't want to mention how much that pattern reminded her of the decoration she'd once watched Will engrave into a dagger handle.

Jack had also carried aboard a wrapped canvas bundle, the size of a large book, which he'd ever-so-carefully set down on her bunk before coming over to meet the baby. Elizabeth assumed it contained a Christmas present for her, and reminded herself to look enthusiastic when the time came to unwrap it.

Sparrow was now holding his open hand before Willy's face, turning it forward and back. He made a little grab to the side, and suddenly three gold coins appeared between his fingers. Willy grinned a wide toothless grin, reaching for the flashing guineas.

"Fancy these too, eh? Sorry I am, lad, ta be givin' ye somethin' so impersonal fer Yuletide, but I've no proper experience shoppin' fer whelps. Best I can do, is trust yer Mum ta get whatever ye're needin' the most." He fisted his hand, making the coins disappear, then snaked his arm down to slip the gift to Elizabeth. She did her best to look cheerful as she took it, but apparently her best wasn't adequate.

The _Pearl's_ captain frowned. "Is somethin' amiss, Lizzie?" Willy mumbled discontentedly, wanting the shiny coins to return.

Elizabeth sighed again, pocketing guineas and seashell. It might not be the best hospitality, but she didn't feel like putting up a false front. "Don't take it personally, Jack. I'm simply not in a holiday mood."

Sparrow nodded. "That would be due to bein' without yer fair William, on your first Christmas since bearing his child. 'Tis a sorrowful thing fer any father ta miss that. Even worse that he don't even know he's a father at all."

Liz hastily dabbed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I really am glad you're here, but it's hard to pretend..."

"... that you wouldn't much rather have Will the Second," Jack finished, with no discernible resentment. "I expected ya might be feelin' that way, luv. Which is why I brought you the present I did."

Jack handed Willy back to his mother, and stepped to the bed to retrieve the canvas bundle. As he returned he carefully unwrapped the item inside, holding it up for her inspection.

It looked very much like a unframed round mirror, four handspans wide, with a quaking dark surface. Liz peered at her rippling reflection, immediately sensing there was more to this object than met the eye. She leaned away, clutching the baby so close he wiggled in protest. "Jack, what exactly is that thing?"

"It's a window, of sorts. Given the proper activation, it'll allow you ta see, and hear, any locale you might want. Includin' that back-of-beyond where the _Dutchman_ sails. Fer one use only, mind you."

"Do I dare to ask where you got it?"

Jack tilted his head coyly. "I had an unexpected encounter with someone whom, I had reason ta believe, could be of assistance with yer communications problem. Without goin' inta too much detail: we made a barter. Not involvin' me soul this time! If you have no objections, I'll start settin' it up."

Sparrow moved to the cabin wall, took down a decorative sword and hung the strange mirror in it's place. Curiosity won out over caution; Liz rose and stepped closer, keeping her protective hold on Willy. The strange ebon surface shimmered like blown water, reflecting off the little metal shelf protruding from the mirror's lower edge.

"This will show me Will?"

"Aye. And allow you two ta speak, though not reach through to touch."

"How, exactly, is it activated?"

"We set fire to a bit of incense here." Jack tapped the metal shelf. "When it's burning well, we drop in jus' the tiniest lock of wee William's hair. That is," Jack smirked slyly, "if you are certain the little whelp is the larger whelp's get?"

"Yes, Jack. I am entirely sure of it," Liz replied haughtily.

"No problem, then. The window will open right in front of William the Second, wherever he is, an' we'll be able ta see an' hear him, as he'll see and hear us. Not fer very long, though, so don't be hesitant about sayin' whatever's most important."

Liz hefted her bundled son. "I already know what that is! Did you bring the incense?"

Jack dug a small metal cylinder out of his coat pocket. Liz's eyes narrowed, recognizing the stamped insignia on the lid. Pirate though she was, there were some varieties of theft she considered beyond the pale.

"Jack, did you steal this from a church?"

"Not guilty o' that! Fact is, I weren't allowed to. The instruction related to me was that this component 'must be given freely, with no use of stealth, deceit, threat or force.' A near-impossible obstacle fer a pirate to surmount, it'd seem. Except," Jack smirked, "Captain Sparrow happens ta be in the good graces of one Vicar Gregory, currently practicing 'is vocation on Montserrat."

Liz raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And how do you come to have a friendly acquaintance with a clergyman?"

"He were an associate, during me own brief sojourn in that profession. I got along with 'im fine- he gave himself no more airs 'en any tar, an' never passed up an opportunity to laugh. When my impostership came to light, Gregory were as appalled as the rest, but opted he could forgive me since I'd done it ta hide meself from some disgruntled colleagues, rather 'en ta do harm. 'Twas his opinion that the Lord hisself might've found that jest amusin'." Jack looked rueful. "I doubt the man'll ever rise any further up the hierarchy. God might have a sense of humor- the Church of England don't so much.

"Anyways, we parted on non-rancorous terms. When I later heard about a planned raid on his parish, I sent him warning. Vicar Gregory hain't one ta forget a favor, so when I explained to him why I needed some church-approved incense, he gave this to me from his own hand. 'Said that reunitin' a husband an' wife was Good Work, regardless o' who was doin' it."

Liz eyed the trembling mirror again, feeling somewhat more at ease about it. Not entirely convinced it would work, though. Jack seemed to be in earnest, and she did not believe he'd deliberately pull such a cruel deception on her. But he could be mistaken about the reliability of that 'unexpected encounter'. Still, any possibility of seeing Will again, and introducing him their child, was enough to make her tingle with anticipation.

Elizabeth set her jaw. "All right. Let's do this."

She laid Willy face down in his hanging cradle, drew a sharp knife from her boot, and very carefully shaved a curl from the back of his head. Surprisingly, the babe held perfectly still for it- almost as if he understood the importance.

Meanwhile, Jack opened the tin and poured a handful of lumpy tan resin onto the shelf, which he set alight with his flint box. Within a minute, the Captain's quarters were permeated with an enticing fragrance she recognized from many a Yuletide church service. "Why, that's frankincense!"

"That it is- the good Vicar thought it'd be appropriate to the season. Do you have the whelp's lock?"

"Yes." Liz hurried to stand squarely in front of the mirror, cradling Willy with one arm. With the other, she reached to drop the silky dark coil into the smoldering resin. A less-enchanting stench of burnt hair arose, and the mirror seemed to soundlessly shatter, sprouting jagged silver seams which expanded and merged. Elizabeth stared deep into the litening depths. Searching almost desperately, for anything resembling that beloved face.

A small corner of her mind considered that, if it turned out he was pulling a prank, this just might be Jack Sparrow's last Christmas...  
-

William Turner, Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, was in his cabin, bent over a navigational chart that'd be incomprehensible to any mortal navigator. But the distraction tormenting his thoughts was one many an ordinary seafarer would identify with. He was sorely missing the woman he'd left ashore.

A common enough mood for him, worse than usual now. Though the passage of time was marked differently on these neitherworld waters, his ship did receive some secondhand notice of the passing seasons. The latest set of passengers they'd taken aboard- from a storm-sunk sloop attempting to reach Boston in time for the holidays- had alerted him to the fact that, somewhere beyond reach, his beautiful Elizabeth was celebrating the Yuletide without him.

"It's no worse than what many sailor's wives endure. And certainly not as bad as what the families of our passengers must face," he reminded himself. Even so, the missed opportunity was weighing painfully on him. Less than a tenth of his service time had passed; he would have to bear this particular grief another nine times, before...

Captain Turner's attention was suddenly snatched by an unprecedented sight; a suspended disc of pale light, hovering at eye-level. A handspan wide, and growing. Will's hand automatically went to the sword hilt on his hip, though he just as quickly realized the futility of that defense. If defense was even required. The growing light circle, though odd, did not appear threatening. He continued to stare as it expanded to two ells in width. Then it seemed to settle and solidify, a pair of human shapes becoming visible across it's surface.

William gasped. The nearer of those shapes looked exactly like...

"Will? Will, darling! It's me!"

If he hadn't already been seated, the _Dutchman's_ captain might have staggered. "Elizabeth?! Where are...? How did...?"

The other figure- equally recognizable- leaned over the woman's shoulder. "You haven't got much time, whelp. Don't waste it asking questions!"

"Jack...?"

Elizabeth was lifting something into view- a round-faced bundle, with huge brown eyes under a thatch of dark curls. Will gaped at the baby, shooting a hard questioning glance at Sparrow. Who responded with an indignant look of his own, making a quick thumb jerk towards Will. Out of Liz's line of sight, fortunately.

She was speaking again, her voice as radiantly happy as her face. "Dearest, I want you to meet William James Wetherby Turner. Our son."

Will was vaguely aware his jaw was threatening to scrape the desk top, and he didn't care. "Our son... ? Liz... he's absolutely beautiful!"

Willy, apparently deciding he liked the stranger in the glowing light ball, made friendly noises and reached in his direction. Turner attempted to make contact with the tiny hands, only to have his fingers pass right through the light disc. He hastily withdrew them- to his relief, the image remained intact.

Elizabeth spoke fast. "Will, I needed to tell you you had a child, and not to worry about us- we're being taken care of. But I do miss you! I'll teach Willy everything about you as he grows up. When the ten years are over and we meet you on the island, he'll know who you are!'

"I miss you too, Liz- it's so good to see you!" Will's grin threatened to split his face, an unnoticed tear escaping his eye. "I'm keeping busy. There's so much to do here- the time goes fast. It won't be that much longer." He couldn't keep his eyes still, wanting to drink in Liz's lovely face and the baby's laughing one, both at once.

"I'm still sailing everywhere on the _Empress_. And, I have a very good friend to pay me visits." Liz reached over one shoulder; Sparrow took her hand in a respectful fashion. "He's the one who engineered this meeting, Will."

Those might have been the only words capable of redirecting Will's stare to the man behind her. "You have the gratitude of the Master of the _Flying Dutchman_, Jack Sparrow. Don't underestimate what that's worth."

"I won't, William." Jack dared say no more- the circle was getting fuzzy around the edges. "The window's startin' ta close- better make yer farewells now!"

Liz leaned as close to the mirror as she could. "Will, I still love you- that hasn't changed at all!" Jack looked away to hide an eye roll.

"And I love you too, Elizabeth. More than ever. Enjoy your Yuletide!" William raised a hand, grinning broadly, as the circle shuddered and dimmed like a blown candle flame. Willy emitted a loud wail- he didn't want the happy-looking man to go away.

"Goodbye, darling!" Liz called. The last of the light vanished, leaving only a rounded scorch mark on the wall, and the lingering fragrance of frankincense.

Elizabeth was dabbing her eyes again, but smiling as she did. Jack reached to gently take the distressed infant from her. "Here, lad- let's give yer Mum jus' a bit o' time to herself."

Jack carried Willy to the casement window, pointing out the impressive craft rocking alongside. "See that? 'Tis me own ship, the _Black Pearl_! Hain't she beautiful?" The diversion worked; Willy quieted as he stared at this newest wonder.

Liz, getting her tears under control, looked gratefully towards the pirate holding her son, and the dark vessel beyond. Quite abruptly, she realized exactly why the other ship looked different.

"Jack... where is the _Pearl's_ figurehead?"

Sparrow started- for all the world, like a small boy caught with his hand in the sweets jar. "It jus' got a mite too weathered. I've already made arrangements ta have another sculpted. Nothin' to fret over."

But Liz had already guessed. "That's what you traded for the mirror, isn't it?"

"It seemed a fair bargain. The thing were so old, I was thinkin' of gettin' it replaced anyway." Deciding there would never be a more opportune moment to tell her, he added, "I hope you won't take it amiss, but I instructed the carvers ta make the new one look, well, just a bit like yerself."

Liz's eyes flashed. _Of all the impudent...!_ But she reined herself in.

"I see. Well, maybe there's no need to discuss it further."

Then she jumped like a little singed cat. "Oh! I almost forgot- I have a gift for you, too!" She stepped to a black-and-gold lacquered cabinet, rummaged through a drawer. "I got this a few raids back. I saw it on a Spanish Conde who was trying to skewer me, and knew you'd love it."

Jack looked most intrigued as Liz approached, clasping whatever-it-was between her palms. Not until she was right in front of him did she unfold her hands, to reveal a massive gold pendant set with an acorn-sized ruby.

The pirate grinned hugely. "It's just what I wanted, Lizzie!" Willy watched with obvious approval, as his mother fastened the heavy metal chain around Sparrow's neck.

Elizabeth's arms curled to embrace her son and her friend simultaneously. "You're an insolent rogue, Jack Sparrow, but today you've given me the best present I could have hoped for. Thank you so much!

"Yer most welcome, Liz. Merry Christmas!" They shared a brief, affectionate kiss. Willy reached to finger the glittering red stone, gurgling delightedly.

Topside, Nuan was warbling the final chorus of the seasonal song she'd learned from her Captain, to the appreciative visitors:

_"Sing oh, my love! Oh, my love, my love, my love, _

_This have I done for my true love!"_

---

FINIS

(And Happy Holidays!)

---

The song lyrics are from 'Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day', an old English carol (complete lyrics below.) I particularly recommend the 'Choir of King's College' rendition of it.

-

_Tomorrow shall be my dancing day, I would my true love did so chance, _

_To see the legend of my play, to call my true love to my dance,_

(Chorus)

_Sing oh, my love! Oh, my love, my love, my love, _

_This have I done for my true love!_

_-  
_

_Then was I born of a virgin pure, of her I took fleshly substance, _

_Thus was I knit to man's nature, to call my true love to my dance._

(Chorus)

_In a manger laid, and wrapped I was, so very poor, this was my chance, _

_Betwixt an ox and a silly old ass, to call my true love to my dance._

(Chorus)

_Into the desert I was led, where I fasted without substance; _

_The Devil bade me make stones my bread, to have me break my true love's dance._

(Chorus)

_For thirty pence Judas me sold, his covetousness for to advance: _

_'Mark whom I kiss, the same do hold! The same is he shall lead the dance.'_

(Chorus)

_Then on the cross hanged I was, where a spear my heart did glance; _

_There issued forth both water and blood, to call my true love to my dance._

(Chorus)

_Then down to hell I took my way, for my true love's deliverance, _

_And rose again on the third day, up to my true love and the dance._

(Chorus)

_Then up to heaven I did ascend, where now I dwell in sure substance _

_On the right hand of God that man, may come unto the general dance!_

(Chorus)


End file.
